


[PS 3537 
.H9768 

\m 

1900 
[Copy 1 



If^t! ''^Mf^:\^'^^^ 



My Lord, The Count. 

A SOCIETY DRAMA, 

—BY- 
EMMA SHOUDY. 



COPYRIGHTED WOO, 
All rights reserved. 



T"WO COPIES RECElViij^', 

L. Ibrary of GORgr@«% 
^fflse of the 

siegister of Copyrights 
CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

Helen Wilton, An American heiress. • ' "^ 

Mrs. Alfonso Gerarde Wilton, Helen's mother; 
a lively widow with social ambitions. 

Constance Markham, Mrs. Wilton's Cousin; a col- 
lege graduate with ideas, decided but never 
severe. 

Cosette, a French maid. 

Count Petrovitch Zelicka Mavwotzki de Kobo- 
lotzki, a Russian Count. 

George Abraham Brown, Esq., An American noble- 
man. 

Mr. Van Tuyle (Tile), A gay society man who goes 
in for learning. 



James, The footman. 






8E0eNB OttPY, 



MY LORD, THE COUNT, 

By EMMA SHOUDY. 



ACT I. 

MRS. Wilton's drawing room. 

(Enter Mi^s. Aljoiiso Oerarde Wilton, in street costume 
and Constance carrying hook.) 

Mrs. Wilton: Constance, isn't it dreadful! Pos- 
itively dreadful! I am completely worn out with it 
all. It's so tiresomely American. 

Constance: With what, cousin Isabelle? {Con- 
stance seats herself.) 

Mrs. Wilton: Why all this commotion over just 
an ordinary admiral. He has no rank in private life 
at all. 

Constance {Laughingly): Oh! 

Mrs. Wilton: When will the city become normal 
and assume some dignity. I am ashamed of the 
rabble in the streets and their vulorar demonstration. 
There are so many titled foreigners here too, what 
will they think of us. 

Constance: It is dreadful. {Looks in book.) 

Mrs. Wilton: It is indeed. One can't go into 
the street but the plebian mob surges up against you 
or stops your automobile. They offend the eye and 
deafen the ear. 

Constance: It is too bad, vou ouo-ht to have a 
body guard and a herald to proclaim 'make way for 



— 4— 
the Right Royal Mrs. Alfonso Gerarde Wilton'. But 
why do you stay here? There is the aristocratic 
seclusion of your villa on the Hudson or your cot- 
tage at Newport. 

Mrs. Wilton {Sits): Of course it's the correct 
thing to be here, all people of consequence are. But 
I do wish Dewey had a title or at least came from a 
noble family. 

Constance: So that would add to their glory, 
would it? Now I think of it, there is a story which 
says he is a descendant of kings by right divine. 

Mrs. Wilton: {Takes chair nearer Constance.) 
There is, tell me about it, cousin Constance. You 
do know everything. Did you learn it at Wellesley? 

Conitance: No, not there. I saw it in a paper. 
The article said that Dewey comes from an old feudal 
family of Flanders. 

Mrs. Wilton: Did his ancestors come over with 
William the Conqueror? 

Constance: They did, and one of them received 
a baronetcy from James the Second. 

Mrs. Wilton: Indeed, do people know that? The 
foreigners, I mean. 

Constance: I think so, if they read the papers. 

Mrs. Wilton: Well, I am glad to hear it. It 
adds so much more dignity to the whole occasion. 
Now I think of it, he did have quite a noble appear- 
ance, like a duke or a prince as he stood on the 
deck of the Olympia. 



\ 

— 5— 

Constance: He did indeed, even nobler tVan 

some. 
Mrs. Wilton: But Constance, (arises) the awful 

mobs with their vulgar curiosity and expressions. 

I was completely humiliated when just as Count 

Mavwotzki deKobolotzki came up to my automobile, 

they began to hurrah f,r Rough Riders and War 

Gods with diminutive names. Rough Riders, indeed! 

He must think we'er a country of them. 

Constance: Did he show any annoyance? 

Mrs. Wilton: (Sits near Constance) No, it was a 
relief when he turned to me in that courteous way 
and said with his charming accent "My dear Madam, 
why do ze people shout? Iss it an Indian or a gold 
mine." 

Constance: That must have been a relief. 

Mrs. Wilton: It was, I immediately called his 
attention to the naval parade which was quite fine. 
Bright of me, wasn^t it? 

Constance: Yes, quite bright. 

Mrs. Wilton: I thought so but they do these 
things much better across the water. At the Queen's 
jubilee everything seemed so much more stately. 
There was such reverence and awe for the great 
people, those with titles, you know. 

Constance: O yes, with titles. 

Mrs. Wilton: But Constance, to be addressed as 
"My dear madam." {rises walks atv ay from Constance) 
it ought to be my dear Countess, or my dear Duch- 
ess. However, I suppose it's too late for me. 



— 6— 

Constance: Oh, 1 don't know about that. 

Mrs. Wilton: Yes, I think it is, {miiynated, co7nes 
near Constance) but do you know I believe the Count 
is interested in our Helen. He gave her marked 
attention at Newport this summer and inquired 
very particularly about her today. (Sits) If we are 
a little — oh well — solicitous — cordial, you knaw, 
another grand inter-national marriage might not be 
an impossibility. 

Constance: Does Helen seem to care for him? 

Mrs. Wilton: Care for him. I presume so. Do 
you realize, Constance, what this brilliant marriage 
would mean for us? The dear child would be ma^- 
nificently settled, and when we went abroad, if we 
did not remain there entirely, we would be received 
into royal circles immediately. 

Constance: That would be such a privilege, but 
you don't know that she cares for him. 

Mrs. Wilton: Constance, you are so persistent. 
I verily beleive your college education is making 
you disagreeable. A woman shouldn't have too 
much education. Care for him! Why I suppose so, 
he's so distinguished looking and so gentle and 
courteous in manner. I am sure he would be kind 
to her, and the splendor of it all ought to delight 
any young girl. 

Constance: Then you approve of these inter- 
national marriages? 

Mrs. Wilton: I do indeed, (rises) I think there 
is a great deal of false sentiment against them. 



—.7— 
Inter-national marriag-es brings the nations closer to- 
gether and are really an expression of the truer 
patriotism, for with so many American girls among 
the nobility of Europe, inter-national wars would 
not occur. 

Constance: No, the peace and harmony of Eu- 
rope, whose nobility have inter-married for genera- 
tions is remarkable. Hcwever, I believe the nations 
have not yet laid down their arms. 

Mrs. Wilton {Leans on chair says weakly): But 
Constance, Americans think more of their own chil- 
dren and wouldn't tight against them. 

Constance: So you have decided to marry your 
daughter, willing or unwilling, to a foreigner. To 
send her off to a strange land, among strange peo- 
ple and customs. 1 see you are deeply imbued with 
the new patriotism. 

Mrs. Wilton: Pardon me, Constance, if I say 
again you are entirely too well educated. I read 
that about inter-national marriages in a paper. The 
article said they were a good thing. And it exactly 
coincides with my views. {Playfully) Now there's 
yourself. If you weren't so assertive, with your 
money and appearance you might just as well marry 
a duke or something as not. I beleive I could do 
something for you. {Coaxingly comes to Constance) 
Couldn't you conceal your opinions more, it's so 
disagreeable for a woman to have opinions. 

Constance {Rising indignantly pushing Mis. W. 



away, Mrs. W. laughs): Isabelle! How can I im- 
press upon you that 1 do not care to marry any one, 
— domestic or foreign, and certainly shall not marry, 
merely for the sake of a title, any of your foreign 
lions who come seeking what they may devour in 
the way of a fortune. My plans are made for the 
future and a husband is not included in them. 
However, if any man could induce me to change 
them, I should hope it would be some good, honest 
American citizen. {Enter servant with card) I fancy 
your Count has called to bargain with you, my 
presence would not be an inspiration, I will leave 
you. 

Mrs.' Wilton: Yes, it is he. {To servant) You 
may show him in here. I am so agitated, I am sure 
he wishes to find out the state of Helen's affections. 
Oh, for the proper tact to manage this. {Enter Count 
wears ])ointed heard and tnonacle) Ah! my dear Count 
Mavwotzki. It is delightful to see you in New York 
again. I rejoice in this celebration, for that at least. 
Will you be seated. 

Count M.: Ze madam iss vera kind. I have called 
on a leetle matter of — I mean I have called to see ze 
madam, I was in doubt that you might be out — to ze 
cela — what you call it — ze welcome to ze one soldier. 

Mrs. Wilton: I was out for awhile, but I have 
seen so many of these things in Europe, you know, 
the Queen's jubilee, where I met the Prince of Wales 
and the coronation of the Czar, that was magnifi- 



I 



— 9— 
cent. It was so dear aud gracious of him to have 
those orifts thrown to the serfs, how they must love 
him. 

Count M. : Za do, my dear madam. Za do. 

Mrs. Wilton: Our naval display was imposing 
last night. Did you not think so? The Admiral is 
of royal blood, you know, and the people delight to 
honor him. 

Count M. : iss it so? Ze boats were quite fine 
and the decorations elegant. You have one great 
nation. 

Mrs. Wilton: Oh, we have wonderful resources 
in America, there is much culture and wealth here 
now. 

Count M.: W-e-a-1-t-h, oh yes and ze Madamo- 
selle Wilton. Does she find herself in great speerits? 

Mrs. Wilton: Thank you, yes, she is unusually 
happy of late, she has just reached her majority 
and quite enjoys the independence her 130,000,000 
have brought her. Her dear papa left her that. He 
was an oil prince, you know. 

Count M.: Oh, it iss $30,000,000! 

Mrs. Wilton: Pardon me for speaking of it. We 
in America become very practical. Mr. Wilton used 
often to talk over his finances with me. He thought 
a lady should have some familiarity with at least the 
round numbers of her fortune. 

Count M.: Ze round numbers, yess. Ah verra 
good idea zat. My dear madam, 1 vill be frank wiz 



—10 — 
you. I call to zay to you zat I loves ze young lady 
ever since I have heard about her for — ever since I 
have seen her, I have desired to do her ze honor to 
make her my countess. 

Mks. Wilton: Ah! Count Mavwotzki, I am de- 
lighted to know your highness appreciates my 
daughter. But who could help loving Helen, she is 
affectionate and generous. 

Count M. Ah! affectionate and generous, and are 
you sure her affections are dessingaged? 

Mks, Wilton: I have reason to believe so, and 
also that the attentions your highness has been 
pleased to bestow upon her have been received with 
pleasi^re. 

Count M. : You would give me zen your permiz- 
zeon to pay my addresses to her? 

Mrs. Wilton: I do, my most cordial. It would 
give me great satisfaction to have Helen happy with 
your highness. My own life has been a trilie sad and 
lonely since Mr. Wilton^'s death, but I have always 
to remember his thoughtful provision for my com- 
fort. It was $50,000,000, you know, Helen's home 
would be in Russia, I presume. 

Count M: Yess madam, I have an old, a verra 
old castle zare. I assure you everything about it is 
most ancient, quite dilapidated in fact. She would 
have the title now of Countess Petrovitch Zelicka 
Mavwotzki de Kobolotzki with the title of Duchess 
of Valdivostoki near to her. 



—11— 

Mrs. Wilton: She would! 

Count M: Yes, mnst honored madam. And it 
would be my pleazhure to introduce her to ze court 
circles where her standing would be assured — after 
some necessary formalities. 

Mrs. Wilton: Your noble highness is most gen- 
erous, surely a girl could have no brighter prospect. 
But here comes the dear child now. {Count and 
Mrs. W. rise.) 

[Enter Helen and Mr. Brown, street costunifs.) 

Helen: Mama, ^Mr. Brown and I have been — I 
beg your pardon, I didn't notice there were visitors. 

Mrs. Wilton: Count Mavwotzki, you know, we 
met him at Newport last summer and also at Mrs. 
Stuyvesant Pendleton's lawn fete in July. 

Helen {Walking up to Count and shaking hands, 
frankly): Oh yes, how do you do Count. 1 remem- 
ber that Fourth of July celebration, you were so 
scared when the fire crackers went off {laughs) I can 
see you jump yet. Did you think they were dyna- 
mite bombs and the Russian Bear was after you, but 
I beg your pardon, do you know Mr. Brown, Count 
Mavwotzki. Let me make you acquainted with Mr. 
Brown, of New York City. 

Count M. {Superciliously): Brown, did you say? 
I have met many Browns in America — my waiter — 
and — 

Brown: 1 am George Abraham Brown, Esq. 

Mrs. Wilton {aside): I shall faint, it's a mercy 



—12— 
he said esquire, the English esquires are quite gen- 
tlemen. 

{Brown shakes CounVs hand long and vigorously. 
Count tries to withdraw.) 

Brown: 1 beleive we met last summer at Santi- 
ago, dou't you remember the soldier who scattered 
some Cubans who were giving you a little sport 
with their bayonets, they mistook you for a Spaniard 
{laughs). 

Count M. {Prolonged stare through eyeglass): Aw- 
I don't seem to recall it. 

Brown: Don't you? Well, that soldier was I. 

Helen: O George, did you do that? B'H it was 
just like you. You always championed the weaker 
side at school. {Turning to Mrs. W.) Mama, Mr. 
Brown and I, with some others, have been on the 
water in his yacht — 

Mrs. Wilton {Beproxingly): Mr. Brown and you, 
and your chaperone. 

Helen: My chaperone! What did I need of a 
chaperone. We've always known Mr. Brown, be- 
sides he helped take care of all Cuba and surely he 
can take care of just one girl. 

Brown: It has been no trouble, I assure you. 

Mrs. Wilton {Looking freezingly at Brown): Helen, 
the Count is much interested in the celebration. 

Helen {to Count): You are sure to be, the city 
does look beautiful, and do you not admire our 
soldiers? 



—13— 
Count M: Ze common people thiuk much of 
themselves. And zis what you call him — Admiral 
— iss he zen so much? Hass such great titles? 

Brown: Has he such great titles? In America 
it is title enough to be called the Hero of a Nation. 

CoJJ'NT M. (Shrtigs shoulders) : Iss it so? You love 
ze country much. It iss new. One likes new things. 

Brown: New things are clean and pure and 
strong — they — 

Helen: Mama, some of us went out to the Olym- 
pia in a tug. We serenaded — 

Mrs. Wilton: Helen, this is unusual behavior. 
(To Count) The dear child is just from school, she has 
been carried away by the excitement of the day, she 
is very young. {Mrs. W. and Count pantonmie co7i- 
versation.) {Helen and Brown talk aside.) 

Brown {To Helen): The atmosphere is rather 
Siberian for me, this is a convenient time for a prev- 
ious engagement, 1 may see you again. {Helen 
assents) {To Mrs. W. and Count) 1 recall an en- 
gagement at the club and must be going. Good 
morning, Mrs. Wilton. {Mrs. W. bows freezingly) 
Good morning, your highness, I believe we are to 
meet at the golf links next week. 

Count. M: It gives me ze pleazhure to think so, 
{exit Brown) {Couiit laughs) Ha! Ha! He iss a great 
young savage. {Turning to Helen) And so Miss 
Wilton you enjoy yourself in excitement and under 
protection of young savages. You should come 



—14— 
across the water and dance with the Russian Bear. 

Helen [Archly)-. But I have danced with you 
here. 

Mrs. Wilton: He leu! 

[Count ajypears insulted, btit thinks better of it.) 

Count M. It is nozzing, madam, madamoselle hass 
her leetle joke. But truly, madamoselle, you would 
enjoy a visit to our country. There is our great, 
magnificent court, our cities, our palaces, and in ze 
winter ze ice palace all glittericg wiz light and ze 
merry skaters. 

Helen: No doubt I should enjoy it. I have often 
thought 1 should like to visit Russia to make a study 
of your penal laws and the motives for the Peace 
Manifesto. 

Count M.: Ze madamoselle iss learned. Madam, I 
make ze call long. Wiz your permizzeone, I call 
once more. 

Mrs. Wilton: Your highness is always welcome 
here. You will not mind Helen, she has fever been 
abroad and is deplorably American. 

Count M. My dear madam, she iss charming 
{Charmente). I come again. Good morning, mad- 
amoselle. 

Helen: Good morning Count Mavwotzki. 

Count M, Bon jour, madam. 

Mrs. Wilton: Bon jour. Count Mavwotzki. 
[Exit Count.) {Aside — For once I am glad allowances 
could be made for American savagery.) Helen, 



—15— 
weren't jou quite uncivil to the Count; I am sure lie 
is very courteous himself. 

Helen: Oh, 1 don't know. He irritates me so, 
and he was so unkind to Mr. Brown, then I always 
think he is calculating just how much capital would 
justify the expenditure on my custom or belongings. 

Mrs. Wiltox: But Helen, I have reason to know 
that you grossly misjudge the Count. He has often 
told me of his own elegant palace and his friends at 
court, and I am sure his attentions to you are en- 
tirely disinterested. Only today, he spoke most elo- 
quently to me of his admiration and undying love 
for you. 

Helen: Oh mama! 

Mrs. Wilton: He said he would be proud to make 
you his countess, the mistress of his palace, but was 
in the depths of dispair for fear his love was hope- 
less. 

Helen: Mama, I can hardly believe it. What 
did you say? 

Mrs. Wilton: It is true, Helen, I don't wonder 
you are overcome. If you had witnessed the bril- 
liancy and magnificence of the Russian court as I 
have, you could still better appreciate the dazzling 
prospect and your exceeding good fortune. 

Helen: But mama, I don't care for him, or about 
his old palace, or court either. Papa wouki never 
have wanted me to marry a foreigner, he thought so 
much of his own country. 



—16— 

Mrs. Wilton: Your poor papa would feel very 
differeutly if he were alive now. He was progressive 
and would be tilled with the new patriotism — the 
universal brotherhood cf man. 

Helen: But 1 don't love him, besides, I have more 
than half promised George — Mr. Brown — 

Mrs. Wilton: Helen Gerarde Wilton! I could 
never consent to that. Who is Mr. Brown? 

Helen: Why George — he was here today. Surely 
you know George Brown. 

Mrs. Wilton: 1 know a young person by the 
name of George Brown. But who were his ances- 
tors? Were THEY titled and did they come over with 
William the Conqueror? 

Helen: I'm sure I don't know, I never thought 
of that. I'll ask him. But really, I don't see what 
difference it makes whether his ancestors were titled 
or not. I am sure they were good. 

Mrs. Wilton {aside): It's so ordinary to be good. 

Helen: I have all but promised George to be — 

Mrs. Wilton: Well, that wouldn't need to be con- 
sidered. Count Mavwotzki will make you a good, 
kind husband, and such a brilliant future. (^^> 
proaches Helen.) It quite makes me dizzy to think 
of it. There could be such an impressive wedding 
to begin with — have the Russian ceremony here. 
Erect an altar, have the candles and church pictures 
— subdued light — enter bridal party — you all beau- 
tiful in your white robes — the ceremony, and then 



—17— 

the grand Russian hymn. The next day we could 
have our own high church ceremony. Your pictures 
and praises would be in all the papers and magazines, 
and life would be wortn living for one while. 

Helen: It is a very effective picture, to be sure, 
but some way it does not appeal to me. Now, if it 
were Mr. Brown — 

Mrs. Wilton: Brown! Let me never hear the 
name of Brown again. Helen, I have been a kind, 
solicitous mother and am still so. Believe me, [ know 
what is best for you and my heart is set upon this 
marriage. Refuse to consent to it and you raise a 
barrier between us which it will be difficult to over- 
come. Do you understand me? 

Helen: I do. 

[Curtain.] 

ACT U. 

MRS. WILTON'S PARLOR. 

{Helen seated. Enter Constance carrying book.) 
Helen: O Constance, I'm so glad you came in. 
Tell me what shall I do? I must answer the Count 
today. Mama is inexorable and I fear it may separ- 
ate us if I refuse. Until this craze for titles took 
possession of her we were so happy together. 

Constance: So you must decide today. (Thinks.) 
Do you want to marry this Count? 
Helen (Forcibly): No!! 
Constance: Then for pity's sake say so and settle 



—18 — 
it. Your mother will forgive you in a week or two. 

Helen (Mischievously): Maybe you'd take him off 
my hands, Connie? 

Constance: I! You know my sentiments on the 
question, besides I'm not making matrimonial ven- 
tures of any kind. Some day when I am named 
with the other women benefactors of the race, or am 
president of a college, you will see that I have chosen 
the better way for me — pardon me — if I say the 
nobler. You see I hold that the single life is the 
truly unselfish and altruistic. One has so much 
more time to devote to the general good. 

Helen: Then you don't mind living your life 
alone. 

Constance: Alone! What a benighted, antedilu- 
vian idea it is. Why there's the whole world for 
company. I presume you think I might better 
marry a Weary Willie or broken down nobleman. 

Helen: No, not that. But aren't you forgetting 
Mr. Van Tuyle? 

Constance: Mr. Van Tuyle! I don't see what Mr. 
Van Tuyle has to do with it. 

Helen: O nothing. Only you seem to have some 
interest in his understanding of metaphysics and 
psychical subjects. 

Constance: Mr. Van Tuyle has expressed a laud- 
able desire to know more of these subjects and it is 
only part of my life work to give knowledge where 
it is desired, the same as I would bread and meat. 

Helen: Well, it's all very grand I dare say, but 



—19— 
it seems to me it would be pretty lonesome without, 
well — say George. 

Constance: You care for George, then marry him, 
do. Helen, I believe 1 have a plan that will settle 
everything satisfactorily. Do you personally object 
to the Count for a relative — say cousin, or step- 
father? 

Helen: What do you mean? 

Constance: Only this, I believe your mother, 
with a little encouragement of the right sort, would 
marry him herself. Pardon me if I say I don't be- 
lieve it will make much difference to the Count. She 
has more money than you. He isn't such a bad sort, 
being a sprig of nobility. 

Helen: But mama is — why I don't believe she'd 
do it. 

Constance: I think she will. The Countess of 
Witchazel did and also the Baroness of Graveton. 
That will make it "correct," you know. 

Helen: Well if it can be happily settled that way 
I am sure it would be a relief. It would save trouble 
between mama and me, and satisfy her ambition. 

Constance: T have been preparing her mind for 
it. I think the scheme will materialize. But here 
comes some one. 

Helen: It's George. I told James to send him 
up here. I suppose I'll have to answer him now. 
Don't go — there's some one with him. {Enter Qeorge, 
and Van Tuyle.) 



—20 — 

Helen {coldly): Good morning Mr. Brown. Mr. 
Van Tuyle how do you do. {Coldly to George.) This 
is delightful that jou brought Mr. Van Tuyle. 

Brown: Yes. He came across me on the street. 
Said he had a book for Miss Markham. Good morn- 
ing, Miss Markham — 

Constance: Good morning, gentlemen. It was 
kind of you to bring the book. It has the article on 
"Man Correlated to the Universe." Do you know I 
found another article on the same subject. It is in 
the library. Won't you come in and we can compare 
them. Helen and Mr. Brown will excuse us I am 
sure. (They nod assent — Bj^own vigorously. Constance 
exit, followed by Va7i Tuyle.) 

Van Tuyle: With great pleasure. {To audience.) 
Man Correlated to the Universe. My universe has 
gone to the library, I must correlate. {Exit.) 

Brown: Helen did you think I brought Van Tuyle? 
It was as I said. 

Helen: Really, 1 hadn't thought anything about 
it — I'm sure he's a very pleasant young man. 

Brown: He's all right in his place. But come 
Helen, how is it between you and the Count and me? 
You must tell me today. 

Helen: I must? I don't know George. You see 
I don't know who you are — 

George: Who I am! Why ycu've known me all 
your life. 



—21— 
Helen: Yes, but I don't know about your ances- 
tors — your family tree, you know. 

Brown: Oh, my family tree. It's quite ancient, 
Autumnal colors, in fact — it^s Brown. 

Helen: How absurd! But that won't do; you've 
got to say your catechism. There now! Stand up 
there — toes on the line. Now who was your oldest 
ancestor? 

Brown: Why — why — I don't know — O yes it was 
Methuselah. 

Helen: I guess that's right — but that isn't what 
I meant. Let's try again — with whom did your an- 
cestors come over? 

Brown: Over — over what? 

Helen: Why over the floods of the mighty deep, 
of course. 

Brown: Oh, the floods — It was Noah. 

Helen: George, you are so disappointing. You 
ought to have said William the Conqueror. It's the 
"correct thing" for ancestors to come over with 
William the Conqueror. Now, here's another one. 
When did your family get the distinguished name of 
Brown? 

Brown: I can answer that. In the thirteenth 
century when the rest of the people were differen- 
tiated. But come, this is enough nonsense. If you 
really want to know about my ancestors, as far back 
as it is necessary to investigate, they have been 



—22— 
brave, true men — loyal to their friends, their conn- 
try, their homes. Is that a satisfactory record? 

Helen (Shyly): Yes. 

Bkown: Then Helen, my little Helen, it only 
remains for yon to sav you care enough for me to — 

Helen: But the Count didnH say it that way. 
He— 

Brown: I will endure no more of this. I am no 
child to be played with, no servile flatterer or titled 
conquering hero. It is not womanly of you to treat 
me so — {Helen grieved. ^ George approaches her.) 
Foro;ive me Helen, little playmate, but I have hoped 
so long and dared to expect something different. All 
through those terrible Cuban days, through heat, 
through fever and through suffering, and when 
Spanish bullets were flying thick on San Juan Hill, it 
was thought of you, and that you cared that nerved 
my arm and stayed my courage. Don't tease me 
now Helen. Tell me truly do you — 

{Enter Constance and Van Tuyle absorbed in 
conversation). 

Constance: Yes, the Norm of the Cosmos is a 
rather abstract term to grasp, but you have had no 
diflBculty with it. Do not allow yourself to become 
discouraged in your psychical research. A.s a college 
professor of mine used to say, "We are all children 
in the presence of new knowledge.'' 

Helen {Lavghingly): Are you people still deep in 
psychological subjects? Mr. Brown has just sug- 



-^23— 
gested that we all take a walk, the day is so very 
fine. 

Van Tuyle: Just the thino; I am sure. 

Helen: Will you gentlemen wait here until we 
tind our wraps. {Constance opens magazine — points to 
place — calls Van Tuyl€s attention, etc.) 

Helen {To George): I shall tell mama to receive 
the Count and give him a tinal no. 

Bkown: {Demonstration.) 
Helen: No nonsense, sir! 

{Exit gi7'ls. Brown walks about ajigrily.) 

Van Tuyle: Say Brown, what in the name of all 
that's wonderful is the Norm of the Cosmos? She 
thinks I know, but I don't. Tell me quick! 

Brown: It's a confounded idiot that comes into 
the room at the wrong time. 

Van Tuyle: Honest now! What does it mean? 
I understand about the evolution of consciousness 
and that by interest and eloquence I can be raised 
above myself and subject and become it — 

Brown: Become an it. You are one. 

Van Tuyle: Become it. Rise above the subject. 
You don't understand these things. I know too, 
that I have no idea — 

Brown: I thought so. 

Van Tuyle: But am an idea, which idea I might 
mention incidentally is fast becoming Constance. 
But Norm of the Cosmos — Norm of the Cosmos. It 



—24— 
might just as well be Corrn of the Blosmos — (thinks.) 
Say Brown, isn't she magnificent? 

Bkown: It depends on who she is, and the point 
of view. However, if it's Miss Markham, she doesn't 
appeal to me. 

Van Tuyle: I should hope not. Now, I go in for 
learning myself and I want that magnificent creature 
at the head of my ancestral house and the learned 
of the earth to gather in my heraldic halls. 

Brown: Shouldn't think you'd feel at home. 

Van Tuyle: Don't mention it, she doesn't sus- 
pect it. You see I let her do all the talking and I 
appaeciate. She thinks I'm up to her. The rule 
works just as it does with your learned men and ap- 
preciative women. 

Brown: Well you are done for sure. Has she 
given you any encouragement? 

Van Tuyle: Not the slightest. But she talks to 
me. Discusses things, you know — 

Brown: Your name will go against you with her. 

Van Tuyle: {Indignantly.) My name! How's 
that, I'd like to know? 

Brown: It doesn't sound American. The Van 
spoils it. 

Van Tuyle: But it is as American as any of 'em, 
Knickerbocker stock, I can prove it. I'm a direct 
descendant of the last Dutch colonial governor, old 
Peter the Stubborn. That's why I don't give up my 
Constance. But hush! Here they come. Norm of 



—25— 
the Cosmos — Corm of the Blosmos — Blorm of the 
Blormsmus — Heavens! — Brown — 

Helen: We were longer because I had to find 
mama {looking ineaningly at Brown) 1 told her we 
were going for a walk. 

Constance: The Norm of the Cosmos as also the 
theory of composite personality has become an in- 
teresting psycological subject. 

ACT III. 

(^Constance seated writing. Enter Mrs. W.) 

Mrs. Wilton: It's all over. Helen has refused 
point blank to marry the Count. 

Constance: Indeed! 

Mrs. Wilton: Nothing I can say influences her. 
She's as firm as the Plymouth Rock, and as obstinate 
as the thirteen original colonies — Vulgar little 
upstarts they were. 

Constance: To be sure. 

Mrs. Wilton: But 1 can't give it all up. The 
eclat of the wedding ceremony and all those foreign 
triumphs. It was too splendid. 

Constance: And I would not give it up. Life 
yet holds possibilities for you. 

Mrs. Wilton: Do you really think so? 

Constance: I believe it all depends upon you 
whether the Count is ours, or not. You have friends 
abroad who have accomplished as much. {Loohiiig 
at watch) I must deliver a lecture on "The Auton- 



—26 — 
omy of the Ego,'' now, and later one on the "Philos- 
ophy of Protest." I am not in sympathy with either 
theory. Neither is Mr. Van Tnyle and he thinks so 
clearly on these abstract subjects. You consider my 
suggestion concerning the Count and we will talk of 
it again. Au revoir, ma belle cousin. (Exit) 

Mrs. Wilton: Au revoir. {Laughs) "Mr. Van 
Tuyle thinks so clearly on abstract subjects." But 
the Count — I wonder if I could. He can't be so ver}' 
young, and there's the "feefty million." I'll do it. 
[Goes to mirror, arranges hair — Jinds gray hairs) O it's 
gray! Are there many? {Bings for tnaid — enter Co s- 
ette) Quick! Have I many grey hairs? Be quick, 
Cosette. 

CosETTE {searching): Not one, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton: Look closer! The truth — the 
truth! Tell me the truth! 

Cosette: The truth is it. Then there are a few 
— just a few — but they don't show, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton: They do show. O Time, Time is 
so cruel! Don't you think time is cruel Cosette? 

Cosette: But ray lady, there are remedies. 

Mrs. Wilton {triumjjhantly): There are remedies 
— Blondine {or Blackoline), Blondine will do it! (Bises) 
Time I defy you. While there are remedies and the 
heart is young {gaily) there is no age. You may go 
Cosette. But stay, stay, when Count Mavwotzki 
calls tell him I am here — here — do you understand 
me? 



—27— 
Cosette: Yes my lady {scared — Exit.) 
Mrs. Wilton: Now Venus and Appolo smile down 
upon me! Charms of my youth, come back. 

( Orchestra plays feiv bars of waltz. Mrs. W, listens 
for Count; arranges dress — hair — -^jwte rose in hair; may 
take a few fancy steps, or some parts of a scarf dance 
*using lace scarf or may sing. Enter Count.) 

Count M.: Good morning, madam. Ah, you are 
2;ay {or you sing). You are gay {or you sing) like ze 
beautiful leetle bierds. Madam is happy and all is 
well. 

Mrs. Wilton {coquettishly): I hope all will be well. 

Count M.; Madam "hopes." Iss not zis ze day 
when my answer is made? {3Irs. W.hesitates) Does 
madam tell me? Do I not have ze answer from my 
Helen's own lips — 

Mrs. Wilton: Helen — the dear child is so timid. 
She has a very exalted opinion of your Highness. 

Count M.: I assure ze madam it gifs me ze great 
pleazure zat I condescend to her. Her goodness, her 
beauty, her grace make it my delight. 1 assure ze 
madam my soul iss longing to call her mine. It sail 
be proud for me when I see her in my antique castle. 

Mrs. Wilton: The Count is very kind. But Helen 
thinks — says — says she does not love you. 

Count M.: Impossibeel! Impossibeel! I am ze 
Count, I haf ze papers — I can prove it! 

Mrs. Wilton: Oh believe me, my dear Count, I 
do not doubt for one moment the authenticity of 



_28 — 
your Highness' title, but Helen is very young and, 
pardon iiie, you seem some older, more paternal. 
And then her affections — her's — have been given to 
another. O, it grieves me to give you pain, and we 
— /shall miss you. 

Count M.: Um! Ze madam will miss me. {Mrs. 
W. sits). {Aside) Why not ze madam. Need I not 
come ze more? Come to ze madam's palace? {Zp- 
proaches Mrs. W., touching rose in hair) Ze rose is 
verra beautiful — it is ze queen of flowers — it is more 
perfect, more beautiful zan ze bud — it has fulfilled 
its promise. Madam, I haf found much pleazure in 
you company. A woman of ze world is more bright, 
enjoys one's value more. 

Mrs. Wilton: You think so, my dear Count. 

Count M.: Yees madam. Ze madam will come 
abroad some time, and let me do ze honor to introduce 
her to ze court circles? 

Mrs. Wilton {Clasping hands): That would be 
Heavenly! 

Count M.: Non, uon, not Heavenly — ze common 
people, ze serfs, za go to ze heaven — but grand, 
superb. — Madam's life is sometimes lonely, some sad 
since ze oil prince died? 

Mrs. Wilton: O it has been so lonely until — 

Count M. : Until ze daughter wass grown. Mad- 
am thought much of ze oil prince? 

Mrs. Wilton: He was very generous. His last 
thought was for me. In his will he — 



—29— 
Count M.: Oui, oui, feefty — . Ze rose is verra 
fresh and beautiful and madam do sing {or is gay) 
like ze leetle bierds. I may come to see her some- 
times — often? She iss verra kind. Ze rose sail not 
be lonely more — it iss cruel to be lonely. Ze eastern 
wind sail woo it and ze bee taste of ze honey. Ze 
madam will be at ze ball ziss evening? 

Mrs. Wilton: Oui, my lord (rises). 

Count M. : Bon jour zen for ze now. Ah ze rose 
iss beautiful. (Backs out gesturing and bowing low.) 

Mrs. Wilton: "Ah, ze rose is beautiful." Isn't 
he charming — exquisite? And he is mine, mine! 1 
know it. Already I feel the Countess' diadem upon 
my brow. Tiifany shall order it tomorrow — then — 
ROOM — for her — High-ness — the Count-ess — Pe-tro- 
vitch — Ze-lieck-a — Ma-vwotzki — de — Ko-bo-lotz-ki — 
Room! (Keeps time with a march across stage.) Ah, 
my Peter, your Countess shall wear such sables, such 
pearls and diamonds as shall make her famed 
throughout the world and received with open arms 
by all the courts of Europe (Exit proudly .) 

SCENE IL 

(Enter footman, dusting and setting things straight; 
concerned about whiskers which get awry. Enter Cos- 
ette, French maid.) 

Cosette: What's the matter Jeemsy? You don't 
look exactly happy — 



—30— 

James: Don't talk to me! Don't look at me! 
Don't speak to me! 

Cosette: Come tell me. That's a good boy 
Maybe I can help you. 

James: Eh! Maybe you could. You are rather 
quick. {Maid goes off) Come back here Cosette, I 
mean it! See here, it's like this. I can't please the 
mistress any more an' I'm afraid I'll lose me job. 

Cosette: Why, what's the trouble? 

James: You know how foreign and aristocratic 
this household is getting. We're all runnin' mad 
standin' sthiff as pokers to receive His Highness 
Count Movwotzki de Kobolotzki, first for Miss Helen 
who has too much good sense, then for themisthress 
who seems mighty willin'. 

Cosette: Your right there Jeemsey — I wrote some 
poetry about it last summer at Newport. 

James: You did! {Admiringly) Le'ss hear it, I 
have a poetic turn mesilf. 

Cosette {Hesitates — bashfully draws from imcket) : 
Here it is; I always carry my poetry with me. The 
first two lines are gone — you see they wouldn't go 
straight. 

James {Nods head sympathetically): Read thim! 
{Looks over j^ai^er.) 

Cosette: 

And those who did not play at golf 

Went sailing on the brine. 

In yachts worth many thousands 



—31— 
Of the dear and precious shine; 
They raced and raced Long Island Sound, 
And chased themselves around, 
To pick up any noble duke 
Who might chance there to be found. 
But soon we'll have to draw the liue 
And stop them while they go, 
For a Newport swell has started 
To wear bangles on his toe. 

James {Admiringly)'. That's foine, Cosette, foine! 
And the shinin' light of truth is in ivery worrud. 
However, me reputation as a man of literary cultoor 
prompts me to shay the firrust twc lines as is missin' 
is the best. {Cosette goes off offended.) 

James {Softer tone): They are the best, Cosette, 
but you could improve upon thim. You're bright, 
you know. 

Cosette {Comes back): Don't you ever write poet- 
ry, Jeemsey? 

James: Um — well, yes, I think I can say with be- 
coming modesty I do sometimes — 

Cosette: Say some for me, Jeemsy. 

James: Well, I wrote some about that boat race 
— between Shamrock and Columbia, you know. 
Shamrock! Wasn't that a shlam on ould Ireland to 
call that clipper Shamrock! 

Cosette: Yes, yes, but the poetry! The poetry 
James — 

James: Oh yes, the poetry — well here it is: 



—32— 

Hail Columbia happy land, 
See the people on the strand. 
{Scratches head and thinks.) 
Yellin' there to beat the band — 
The Columbia has beat her — 
Haste we to the dock and greet her. 
Shamrock's done for on the square, 
Britishers now tear their hair. 

CoSETTE: That's elegant, grand — 

James: There's more, Cosette, but I can't think 
of the rest. 

Cosette: Then my reputation as a woman who 
writes poetry prompts me to say that the rest you 
can't think of is the best. 

James: Cosette, I'm proud of you. 
Cosette {nods yes): Why? 

James: You're so honest. You always pay your 
debts. 

Cosette: We're even now. Go on, Jeemsy. 

James: Well you know how the misthress has 
taken it into her crazy — 

Cosette {Looks arovnd): Hush! Hush! {James 
looks around — scared — then brave.) 

James: — crazy head! I said it! Into her crazy 
head that the land which grew me illustrious coun- 
trymen Pathrick Hinnery an' John L. Sullivan, 
George Washington Dewey and the rist, is too com- 
mon — too plabean — {inquiringly at Cosette, as much as 
to say, do you understand plebean) — too plabean, 
Cosette. 



—33— 

Cgsette: Yes, too plebean; go on. 

James: She says we have got to get a more dis- 
tinguished foreign atmosphere here, an^ since we're 
most like the Angling Saxon race, we'd better be 
Anjrlino: Angrlish, bedad! She does, I heard her tell 
Miss Helen — 

Cgsette: Oh Jeemsy — eaves droppin'. 

James: Aves dhroppin' is it! Faith an' I sthood 
right in plain sight. She don't mind me. I'm the 
footman. Thin, too, we must learn to say me lady 
insthead of good old Anglo-Saxon misthress or Celto 
Frencho madam, etcetera. 

Cosette: Et Cetera, I know all but that. 

James: Yez musth get used to such words, we are 
a cosmopolitan people now and our language musth 
cosmopolize. 

Cosette: Oh, we must cosmopolize, then. Kui 
sue volez dire ( pronounced keh voolai voo deer — means . 
' 'what do you mean'''') . 

James: What? 

Cosette: You tell what, Jeemsy — 

James: It's Hawawian and means "You're a little 
fool, dear." 

Cosette: It does not. It's French and says 
"What do you mean." 

James: O well, the French are n't in our territor- 
ies — yet. 

Cosette: His Highness, the Count, speaks French 
to me. 



—34— 

James: His Highness, the Count, does, does he? 
To you! 

CoSETTE {Nods head) : He gave me this, too {shows 
coin. ) 

James: He did! The spalpeen! Give it to me 
direchtly. 

Cosette: I will not give it to you. 

James; Give it to me direchtly. 

Cosette {Ooin2 to him slowly — scared): I will give 
it to you, but not directly {pzits in his hand or 07i floor) 
— chocolates Jeemsy. 

James: I guess not — I'm taking up a collection 
for the Chicago University, and I might want to send 
relief to my foreign allies. 

Cosette: It's a wonder you wouldn't consider 
your "domesticated" compatriots a little {walks off.) 

James {searches pockets, finds chocolates)-. That's 
right, I ought to. Here's some, Cosette {pretends to 
put in her mouth — puts in own.) Microbes! O well, 
here's some more. You can't see them and they 
don't taste. 

Cosette: More — 

James: No; I'm forming a chocolate trust. Be- 
sides I want to tell you the rest — 

Cosette: Well, go on with your story. 
James: You know that time we all went paradin' 
off to thim fall festivals at Chicago, because for- 
sooth — 
Cosette: Forsooth? 



—35— 

James: Yes. forsooth. Because forsooth me hid 
the Couut musht "egsplore the interior and observe 
the Indians." 

COSETTE: Ha! Ha! Yes. 

James: \yell the misthress calls me to her at the 
Auditorium where we waz a sthappin'' at an' sez she, 
in her new high bred way, she sez, "James,"''' sez 
she, "you are a new member of me reytinue. I have 
taken quite an interest in you." She sez, "you have 
a decidedly foreign look — quite English, you know 
we are supposed to be an English family of rank 
here," sez she. "James, I believe you are quite 
bright, too," she sez. 

Cosette: Quite bright! Did she say that! 

James: [Indignantly) She did. But think of it, 
Cosette, think of the dishgrace of being said to look 
like a furriner. Me az am a naturalized American 
citizen with the papers to show for it. 

Cosette: It was terrible! 

James: Thin she continued. People always con- 
tinue in learned discourse, Cosette. "You stand 
quite straight ; you know how to make yourself insensi- 
ble, like a post or piece of furniture," sez she, "but 
you look a trifle young," she sez. "You should have 
whiskers, James. Get whiskers immediately or I 
shall have to discharge you," she sez. {MaicVshands 
in air scared) Now Cosette, what was I to do? 

Cosette {Solemnly)-. Don't know. 

James: I didn't know either. I was that worrit- 



—se- 
ed that I took to the trolly to settle me nerves. The 
car was jam full and whin the corDductor called out 
*'Will thim as is in the front plaze move up to make 
room for thim as is behint an' so make room for 
thim as is nayther behint or befront." Begoora, I 
didn't even hear him. And I was that dazed that I 
couldn't see authting. You know all thim beautiful 
signs on Lincoln Avenue. I kept readin' thim signs, 
"Foine Whiskers, Foine Whiskers," and finally I sez 
right out loud, sez I, "Fine Wliiskers, begoora that's 
just what I'm afther — " 

COSETTE: Did any one notice it? 

James: Some looked at me shurprised like, an' a 
pleasant individual as had his elbow in me ribs an' 
his paper in me eye sphakes up an' sez he, "What 
dye mane?" "Thim signs," sez I, "they sez 'Foine 
Whiskers,' an' " sez I, "begoora, that's what 1 want," 
sez I. ''They don't say 'Foine Whiskers,'" sez he 
scornfully. "It's 'Foine Whiskies,'" sez he. 

CosETTE {Laughs): Oh Jeemsy! 

James: An' Cosette shure enough it was so — an' 
I was that scared — you know Cosy darlint, I never 
touch a dhrop of the sthuff an' if misthress had 
known I was even readin' the signs she'd 'ave dis- 
charged me on the sphat. 

Cosette: She would! What did you do then? 
James: I was that disthurbed that I ups an' tells 
the man all about it. 



—37— 

Cosette: Oh James! That was so common — to 
tell a stranger your troubles. 

James: Common or not, I did it an' I'm glad of 
it. He was a play actor an' told me .about these — 
an' here I am. Misthress says its quite satisfactory. 

Cosette {Nods): Yes, but don't they come off 
easy, Jeemsy? {Dances around him, and pokes them 
with duster.) 

James: Och! Murdther! Don't. One nearly 
dhropped on the card salver the other day when me 
lud the Count was here. I was that sthiff with 
fright, but misthress didn't seem to notice it. I 
heard her say to Miss Helen, "James is getting a very 
correct bearing," she sez. Say Cosette, don't you 
think I have a very mobile face? 

Cosette: Yes, auto mobile, that's what makes 
the whiskers go — but hush, here comes the mistress. 

{Cosette hides or steps into wing. Enter Mrs. W. 
looking for something.) 

Mrs. Wilton {picks up piece of paper from, table): 
Ah! here it is. James, this is the sketch of my new 
coat of arms. It is English in design. Give it to 
the coachman and tell him to see that it is painted 
on all the carriages, automobiles and other vehicles, 
at once. 

James: At once! Yis, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton: Yes, James. 

James: Yes, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton: James, I don't quite like your ac- 



— as- 
cent or the way you announce the guests in the 
drawing room, especially Count Mavwotzki de Kob- 
olotzki. There is an English family of rank stopping 
on Fifth Avenue, Lord Hightower of Towerton 
Court. Cultivate the acquaintance of the footman 
and get his accent and style of delivery. 
James: Yes, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton (Staj^ts to leave, turns back): And 
James, you really ought to be a blonde. It's more 
English to be blonde — and we must try to be Eng- 
lish, unless we wish to be taken -for Americans, 
which we don't. Get light hair, James, immediate- 
ly — and light eyes if possible. 

James — Yis, my lady. 

Mrs. Wilton: Yes, James. 

James: Yes. my lady. 
{Exit Mrs. W. James searches for Cosette; she appears.) 

James: Did yez hear that, Cosette? Did yez hear 
it? 

Cosette: I did, Jeemsy. 

James: But think of it! Get light hair, and light 
eyes, immediately, she sez. And ask that English 
guy to teach me, she sez — teach me who am an Am- 
erican citizen, I sez, and the royal representative of 
a kingly race with a family tree as big as the cedars 
of Lebanon, sez I. 

Cosette: You — a family tree? Where did you 
get that tree? 

James: Why in the Encyclopedia, to be sure. 



—39 — 
You know thim ould Druidses that used to rule the 
winds an' waves of the Imeiald Isle? 
CosETTE {nods head doubtinglg.) 

James: Well, Tm a direcht descindant of thim 
ould royal chiefs, I sez. Me proper sphere, a king- 
dom; me subjects, me slaves, sez I. 

Cosette {Bows in mock humility, then im,itates Jam.es) : 
"Me subjects, me slaves, sez I." So you belong to 
the royal Druidses family — say — why don't you tell 
the mistress — beg pardon — my lady — that on ac- 
count of those old royal ancestors it wouldn't be 
"correct" for you to receive instructions from that 
English flunky — 

James: I'll do it. It will settle that part — but 
the hair — and the eyes — 

Cosette: They're all right as they are, Jeemsy — 

James: What? 

Cosette: The eyes. 

James: Cosette you are a jewel. But the hair — 
what of that? 

Cosette: Don't know. (Mistress') Blondine — 
that vvill do it. Come on! {Exit Cosette.) 

James: Cosette, you're a jewel, a sparkliu' illi- 
gant jewel. Its against me principles as a freeborn 
naturalized American citizen, but there's me job — 
and me ould mather to look afther. 

Cosette {Calls): Jeems! 

James: Fath thin its exit Jeemes Pathrick O'Flan- 
nigan, late of 'Oirland an' now of Americkey, an' en- 



—40— 
ter the correct En owlish James — his h's in an' out of 
season an' hair as yellow as thim American gold 
sthandards. A bloomin' sacrifice, fellow countrymen, 
to a woman's bloomin' imperialism, sez 1. {Exit 
James.) 

[Curtain] 
ACT IV. 

{Night of ball, distant waltz music. Enter Mrs. Ws. 
parlor, James and Cosette — James in blonde wig. They 
come from garden.) 

Cosette: It's growing late, we must get to our 
duty — but the garden is lovely. The little stars 
twinkle and laugh — and, O Jeemsy, my lady and the 
Count, with his noble highness on his knees as meek 
as a kitten — 

James: An' Miss Helen, bless her, walkin' hup an' 
down the Havenue with 'er soldier; an' Miss Con- 
stance like a Druid priestess — 

But see, night's candles are burnt hout an' joc- 
und day 
Sthands tiptoe on the misthy mountain tops. 
The revellers will be lavin;get thee to vour lady 

an' I 
Begone an' live, or sthay an' die. 

{Wheels about and walks off very stiffly.) 
Cosette: Isn't he "illegant?" So grand an' lit- 
erary ! {Exit. ) 

{Enter ladies and gentlemen, gaily laughing and talk- 
ing. Some m,ay be keeping time to distant music — all 
searching.) 



—41— 

Mable: George and Helen went this way. Tom- 
my Tellerton says they are to be married soon and I 
can't believe it. 

Tommy {Bex)roachfnUy)\ It's true. I said it. and 
yon know my reputation for veracity. 

Florence: Yes, we know it, Tommy, your repu- 
tation — but they are not here. 

Several Ladies and Gentlemen: Not here. 

Mr. Gorden: In the garden of course. {Exit all 
lavghing, etc.) 

{Enter Helen and George.) 

Helen: The evening is beautiful; the stars are 
thick as dew drops on the field of Heaven. Were the 
stars so bright in Cuba, George? 

Brown: No. You were not there, and even the 
sunshine lost some of its brightness. But why, 
Helen, if you did not intend to marry the Count, did 
you keep me in suspense so long? Was it like you, 
Helen, to be cruel? 

Helen: How could I know you cared for me? 
You went off to war without saying so — and there 
were Cuban beauties and Spanish Seniorettas. 

Brown: I went to war because duty to my coun- 
try and suffering humanity demanded it. Believe 
me, it was no small task to keep back words that 
were crowding for expression. But you had always 
known me. Would you have been sure of your own 
heart without the trial of separation? And as for 
Cuban beauties and Spanish Seniorettas — here is your 



— 42— 
picture — a Spanish bullet marred its beauty — but all 
through that terrible time it was my constant com- 
panion, my comforter — I might almost say the shrine 
where my prayer was ever that I might prove 
worthy of my country and my little American sweet- 
heart in the States. 

Helen: George, forgive me. I do understand. 
I^m afraid I did. But I wanted to know — to be sure. 
And George I was so proud of you that you enlisted 
as a private when influence would have brought you 
a commission. So proud when we read of the hon- 
orable mention and of your promotion. Then my 
own prayer was that I might prove myself worthy 
of at least the friendship of such a noble man. 

Bkown: Your words of praise are very dear, 
Helen. Some one says "It is the memory of sweet- 
hearts that makes men brave. On the pinnacle of 
goodness and loveliness sits the American woman — 
I salute her." {Military salute.) But that isn't the 
way I salute my Helen. I (bends over her) — 

{Enter Constance and Van Tuyle. George surprised 
and some vexed.) 

Constance: O Helen! It is really beautiful! The 
study of the heavens by starlight. Mr. Van Tuyle 
and I have been interpreting the oracles of the Uni- 
verse and communing with the planets like gods and 
goddesses of old. Jupiter seemed in great good 
humor — he even winked at us — and Mars was a little 
less angry than usual. But Venus, {approaches cen- 



—43— 
ter of stage and gazes straight out as at descending 
Venus) Veuus was beautiful. Her light was so pure 
and holy — so calm and steady — but why do you 
la'Jgh. Are you then so happy? 

Van Tuyle {impressively): I assure you the study 
of the Cosmos and the law of harmony and truth 
combined throughout the Universe is extremely fas- 
cinating. It is to be hoped that all difficulties to its 
proper correlation to human sentiment may yet be 
overcome. 

Helen: We sincerely hope so. We laugh only 
because we are happy and responsive to your mood. 

{Enter ladies and gentlemen, laughing and talking): 
Ah, here are our friends. 

Florence: We have been searching everywhere 
for you. 

Helen: We havebeenhere — just talking. {Oeorge 
motions assent.) 

Mable: "O, here — just talking!" Well we could- 
n't find you and Tommy Tellerton says we are soon 
to be invited to your wedding and — 

Helen {reprovingly): Tommy! 

Tommy: I heard it Miss Helen — it must be so, but 
here comes {chorus of all on stage) My Lord, the Count 
{Enter Count and Mrs. W.) 

Count {bowing low): My Lord, ze Count, ladies 
and gentlemen, and his lady, who, out under the 
stars wiz ze soft night wind blown all about and ze 
roses listening, have promised to each other an' eg- 



—44— 
schange of — affections {deinonstrations of surprise from 
all). Iss it not so, mj ladj? 

Mrs. Wilton: It is, mj Lord. 

Count {to Helen): It iss your wedding day za 
speak of — zen allow me to present to yon as ze wed- 
ding gift ze Count and future Countess Petrovitch 
Zeliecka Mavwotzki de Kobolotzki. For ze i^ussian 
bear, my dear daughter, goes to his home wearing 
ze beautiful American rose. 

Helen: Mama, is it true — and are yon happy? 

Mrs. Wilton: Quite true Helen — the stars are 
our witnesses — and I am very proud — and happy. 

Helen: — Then Count and Countess Petrovitch Ze- 
liecka Mavwotzki de Kobolotzki, your wedding gift 
but increases my happiness and in return I present 
to you your prospective son-in-law, George Abraham 
Brown, an American nobleman, greater even than — 
my Lord, the Count. 

[Curtain.] f" 

o 
The following may be substituted for first part of Act IV. -j 

Distant Music. 

Moonlight scene in the garden. James {in blonde wig) and Cosette be- 
hind shrahbery. Enter George and Helen, slowly pass off stage. 

Enter Constance and, Van Tuyle. Constance leads the way, studies 
the stars in a rapt trance-like way. Turns often to Van Tuyle who 
toatches her and follows closely. Beaches center of stage, turns slow- 
ly to Van Tuyle. He beckons or holds out hand, she follows, walks to 
Mm, gioes her hirii rmekly aii he leais her fro n the stage. 

Enter Mrs. Wilton and Count. Count very attentive. Mrs. Wilton 
seats herself . Count declares himself . Mrs. Wilton growing more 
haughty. Count thinks she will refuse him, grows excited, Ji-ially 



—45 — 
kneels. She more gracious. Extends hand— he rises, assists her to 
rise; they pass from stage. 
Mrs. Wilton's parlor. 

Enter James in blonde toig, has very stiff bearing. 
Cosette: It's growing late; we must get to our duty. But the 
garden is lovely. The little stars twinkle and laugh— and, O 
Jeemsj^ my lady and the Count, with his noble highness on his 
knees as meek as a kitten— 
James: Yes Cosette — 

But see! Night's candles are burnt hout an' jocund day 
Sthands tiptoe on the misthy mountain tops; 
The revellers will be lavin'; get thee to your lady, an' I 
Begone an' live, or sthay an' die. 

( Wheels about and walks off very stiffly.) 
Cosette: Isn't he "illigant?" So grand and literary! (Exit.) 

(Enter ladies and gentlemen, etc.) 
Mable: George and Helen went this way, etc. 



I 



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